Nothing
by snowsgirl
Summary: After Prussia is dissolved and Gilbert dies, Ludwig just doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. I probably won't do anymore angst ever again. Human names.


Gilbert was dead.

Ludwig couldn't get over it. It had only been a month since Prussia was dissolved and his brother had simply died, but Ludwig already knew it would never be okay.

His brother hadn't died immediately; it had taken a week for him to die. Gilbert had become horribly ill. Shivers, heat flashes, aches, fever... sometimes he coughed so hard there was blood. Ludwig felt responsible, and took care of him to the best of his abilities, but Gilbert seemed content just to have him stay with him through the night.

The whole time, they both knew he was dying, and Ludwig felt awful then, but it wasn't until he woke up lying in bed next to his brother's unmoving body that the full weight of depression finally sank in, leaving him ragged and hollow.

There was a funeral service. Not a very big one, but nearly everyone attended. Even Roderich, normally with bitter resent aimed at the former nation at the best of times, had been there, and though he looked composed, Ludwig thought he saw a few tears roll down his cheek on a couple of occasions.

Feliciano had cried the most during the funeral. Ludwig didn't know why, because the two of them had very little to do with each other despite how well they got along. He chalked it up to the Italian man's sensitive nature immediately. Ludwig himself, however, didn't cry once. He'd still been in too much shock. He felt numb, barely hearing the consoling voices of the other nations as they spoke to him, an occasional hug or pat of the shoulders.

Ludwig didn't cry during the funeral. It wasn't until after, when everyone was just beginning to leave, when he went to see his brother one last time before he was buried, that he lost it.

His brother's face was so blank. Peaceful, maybe, but Gilbert was not the peaceful type. Every moment with him had been wild, crazy, and loud. And now, as he gazed at his brother's lifeless face, completely silent.

An over the shoulder glance assured Ludwig that no one was watching, and he leaned down, placing a kiss on Gilbert's cold forehead. "Sleep well, Bruder."

Ludwig felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around, surprised to see Roderich's lost and saddened expression.

"I'm sorry," he said, hesitating. "I wish you the best. If you ever need anything... well... you can come to me. I'm sure anyone else would say the same."

This left Ludwig stunned. If Roderich were sympathizing him, then he really had hit the bottom.

Roderich's hand on his shoulder moved to the pocket inside his jacket, pulling something out, then reached up to Ludwig's face. A handkerchief.

"All of us will help, Ludwig. We're here," he added, dabbing at the German's tears before placing the lavender embroidered square back in his pocket.

He nodded politely, Mariazell bobbing with his movement, before turning away and leaving.

Ludwig put a hand to his face. He hadn't even realized he was crying.

A couple of days later, Ludwig had dismissed Feliciano and Kiku. He told them that he wanted to be alone for a while, and that because of the war, they probably shouldn't see each other too often anymore, in case the former Allied Powers got suspicious.

Of course, that didn't stop Feliciano from calling every five minutes anyway. Ludwig chose to ignore the phone whenever it rang.

Now? Now... nothing. Ludwig lie in his bed, doing absolutely nothing.

Hunger was eating away at his stomach, the pain so overwhelming, Ludwig was finding it hard to withstand. He refused to eat. He was hardly sleeping. Sometimes, however, he caved just a little, nibbling at a slice of bread and once, a small sip of beer. He was afraid, but he was still only waiting for one thing.

Ludwig was waiting to die.

He looked awful. He'd been doing this for... a little over a week now. Because of his brief indulgences that happened when it became entirely too much for him, he still hadn't died. But if he didn't get back on top of things soon, he couldn't last much more than another few days, most likely. His hair looked dull and dirty. He had dark circles under dead blue eyes, and the fact that he was starving himself showed easily through his black muscle shirt. His lips were cracked and dry, so when he licked them, they still felt dry.

The whole war was his fault. His brother wouldn't have died if there hadn't been a war. He'd caused his brother's death. Essentially, he'd murdered his own brother.

At least, that was his line of thinking.

Ludwig was becoming much more tired easily since he'd started doing this. He tried not to sleep, but sometimes, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. He knew it was due to lack of nutrition, and often, a part of his mind scolded him for his sudden change of habits, but he knew how to make the voice quiet. It was the same voice he'd had to stifle so often during the war. The one that told him what he was doing was wrong. But he'd had to ignore it, and he'd endured it, and so he'd do the same now.

This went on for weeks with him having only one thought. "I want to die."

He was a nation, so his body was stronger and more resistant than the average human, but he was quickly becoming weak. If he looked bad before, he looked awful now.

He hadn't bathed or shaved in days, and he looked ragged and dirty. He still wasn't eating. He was so painfully thin you could count every single one of his ribs. Sometimes, his tears were caused by the pain he was in, rather than longing alone. He could do this though, he was German.

Crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring his aching stomach, Ludwig fell asleep again.

-

"Ludwig!"

Ludwig opened his eyes. Feliciano was standing over him. How did he get into his house?

As he woke up, he realized he wasn't in his house at all. He sat up.

"No, no, lie down, don't hurt yourself," said Feliciano, easily guiding him back down, a testament to just how far he had fallen.

"Where am I?" he asked, frowning.

"Hospital," the Italian replied, his chocolate brown eyes looking like they might spill over with tears. "Are you okay? Lud, you're so skinny..."

Ludwig stared at him. "I'm fine... but how did I get here?"

Feliciano suddenly looked a bit sheepish. "Well, I was going to visit you because you never get my calls because you're so busy all the time... and since you didn't answer the door, I kind of broke in..."

Ludwig fought back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in agitation. "Right. Of course. Anyway, will you please explain to me what happened?"

"You don't know?" asked Feliciano. "I found you passed out on your bed and you weren't breathing..."

The other man groaned. He'd almost forgotten the entire ordeal in the Italian boy's presence. He mentally slapped himself. "So you brought me here?"

"I figured it would be faster than calling an ambulance! Really, the people here at your place drive so slow!" said Feliciano, frowning. "Really though, are you okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"...Ludwig, have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" he asked.

Truth be told, he hadn't. He didn't want to see himself. He felt filthy and horrible for what he did, and he was so filled with self-loathing he couldn't bear to look.

Feliciano took his silence as a 'no' and looked around for something for him to look in, finding only the mirror above the sink. He took it off the wall and brought it to the blond nation, holding it carefully.

Ludwig studied his reflection. "Gott... you're right, I look awful."

"Why are you so skinny like that?"

"I-I haven't been eating..." he admitted quietly.

At Ludwig's reply, the brunette almost dropped the mirror trying to put it back on the wall. "N-not even your... what do you call them... your wursts?"

"Not even."

"N-no beer?" The boy looked close to tears again, because now he_knew_ his friend was sick. As if he didn't have enough proof already.

Ludwig shook his head.

Immediately, Feliciano took one of Ludwig's hands, looking him directly in the eyes. "Lud. Something's wrong with you."

"I know," mumbled Ludwig, looking away from him. "It's because of me that Gilbert is... g-gone... and I don't-I don't deserve to live either."

The boy dropped Ludwig's hand, bursting into tears, leaning down and burying his face in the German's chest. He cried inaudibly in Italian, so not only was his voice muffled, but Ludwig couldn't understand him anyway. Finally, he was able to make "Please don't leave me!" out of the jumbled mix of languages.

"How can you stand to look at me?"

"It's not your fault! Really," sniffled Feliciano. "It's not... nobody knew that would happen... Please don't go... T-too many people have left me..."

Ludwig frowned. _What on earth was he talking about now?_

_"_I need you, okay? I need you here. You can't leave me too... or I'll die too, and then m-maybe fratello will... and then Tonio... and th-then... You can't..."

The silence that followed didn't reassure him at all.

"Lud, I know Gilbert isn't here anymore, and I'm sorry. But you still have people who love you, right?" asked Feliciano, tilting his head sadly. "And, and I'm sure that they'll miss you too! So you can't."

Ludwig sighed. "I see now that I can't trust you not to do something stupid if I'm not around. You're really quite a pain, you know that?"

The Italian sniffled again, looking up at Ludwig with teary eyes. "You mean it?"

"Ja," said Ludwig, sighing again.

"Really?"

"Don't make me regret it."

Feliciano smiled. "Get well soon, Lud~! Please?"

"I will."

"I'm going to stay with you until you get better. But you have to get better soon or else I'll have to eat hospital food!" He looked like he might cry again.

Ludwig almost laughed. The boy got emotional over the most ridiculous things. "Alright, I promise."

"I'll help you, okay? Remember the Pact? I'll help you." smiled Feli, squeezing Ludwig's hand. "Don't you think Gil would want you to be happy too?"

Frowning at the mention of his brother's name, he simply nodded.

"Alright, you get better then," said the Italian, hugging him again. "I'm going to go get something to eat somewhere else, okay?"

"I should have known," Ludwig said, smiling a little. "...See if you can get something for me too, ja?"

Feliciano beamed. "Yes sir!"


End file.
